


waiting for the sun

by darksideofmyroom



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Comfort, Endgame Speculation, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, I’m kinda projecting, No Spoilers, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, but oh well, lots of it actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 08:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18600970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksideofmyroom/pseuds/darksideofmyroom
Summary: It’s not home yet, but it will be, and Peter thinks that’s enough.





	waiting for the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all how are you?  
> I’m wrecked lol, I saw endgame two days ago and I still haven’t recovered. I probably won’t ever.  
> Anywho, here’s this mess of a fic, it’s 50% a vent and 50% trash but I wanted to post something so here ya go.  
> I wrote this before I saw Avengers so there are no spoilers, but I barely reread it so good luck with that.  
> I hope you enjoy this despite of everything!

“I got you some stuff that I thought you’d like, but I figured you would want to decorate your room by yourself, so I just left it there for you. You can do whatever you want with it, and if you want to paint the walls or get new furniture, we can do that, too. You just need to tell me” 

 

Tony moves his hands around while he rambles, which is not unusual, but the way that he does it lets Peter know that he’s feeling unsure, perhaps somewhat uncomfortable.

 

“Thank you” he tells him, and he means it.

His lips curl into a smile and a strange kind of warmth spreads in his chest.

 

Tony rests his hand on the back of his neck “It’s nothing, kiddo. I just want you to feel at home here”

 

Peter meets his eyes and he finds a quiet expectation in them, along with what he has learned to identify as fondness.

 

He thinks about it, thinks about home being here, with Tony and May and everyone he loves and cares about.

He thinks about it, and he realizes it’ll take time. He’s not quite ready yet, and he’s not completely back.

 

And maybe Tony knows this too, maybe he’s willing to wait.

 

He looks around his room, takes in the empty shelves and the piles of books and the Lego sets Tony left there for him.

He glances at the big cardboard boxes that contain his old stuff, clothes and toys that are still his own, even though he struggles to remember that on most days.

 

The room feels like a promise, a reassurance, like Tony’s hand on the nape of his neck.

It’s not home yet, but it will be, and Peter thinks that’s enough.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter forgets he’s not alone anymore, sometimes.

 

It’s like walls closing around him, surrounding him and trapping him until he’s far apart from everyone and everything.

 

He can still perceive the world that’s outside the walls, he can sense it still spins around, it still goes on in his frantic pace, but he’s not aware of it.

 

He’s nothing else but his brain and ashes, he exists, but by himself and he’s meaningless, he’s nothing to the people that are still concrete.

 

He misses being loved and he misses feeling scared. He’s just there, numb, not even a shell.

The walls keep getting closer and closer but he doesn’t care, he can’t bring himself to and he knows he’s not capable of it any longer.

 

Peter is not Peter anymore, but he has no idea what that makes him, and what exactly is left of him, then.

 

He forgets he’s not alone, sometimes, he forgets he’s alive.

 

But then May sits beside him at the kitchen table, she takes his hands in hers and she kisses his knuckles.

 

“You’re back, baby” she tells him, her voice like honey. She looks at him with eyes that seem enormous through the lenses of her glasses, and Peter sees the love, the patience they hold amplified.

 

He is, he’s back. 

 

“I know” and he does, he just forgets, sometimes.

  
  
  
  
  


The first time he sees Ned after the Avengers defeat Thanos and half of humanity is brought back is at his friend’s apartment.

 

Happy drives him there, but he stays in the car.

He tells him to take his time, he’ll come pick him up whenever he wants.

 

Peter’s hand shakes as he knocks on the door, and he tries to align his thoughts with the emotions that are all of a sudden taking over him.

 

Thankfully, it’s Ned who opens the door.

His mouth falls open despite already knowing Peter would come visit and he remains immobile, still holding onto the door handle.

 

Peter clears his throat, he looks down at the floor, he sees Ned’s Star Wars slippers and can’t help but smile at the sight.

 

“Hi Ned” he says finally.

It’s a bit of an apology, but it’s mostly what it’s meant to be: a simple greeting.

 

“Peter” Ned croaks out, but he still doesn’t move.

 

Peter gulps, then he stretches out his hand.

It takes Ned a second to realize his intention, and once he does he follows through with no hesitation.

 

They still both know their shake by heart, and Peter can feel the laughter bubbling up in his chest and the tears prickling at his eyes.

 

It’s just like before, he thinks while he lets Ned hug him tightly and he lets himself cling to his best friend.

 

“It’s so good seeing you, Ned”

 

He knows there’s a million things Ned would need to tell him, then.

Things like  _ I missed you, I was so lonely,  _ and  _ so much time has passed _ , but he doesn’t speak any of those words.

 

Instead, he tells Peter what  _ he _ needs to hear.

 

“My mom made marmalade pie, do you want a slice?”

 

Peter nods, he laughs again in pure joy, and for a moment he forgets he was ever gone.

  
  
  
  
  


Among all the chaos that ensues after the war is over, there are a few moments of calm that fit in between the cracks, and those are Peter’s favourites, because they allow him to breathe, to stop thinking, and to value everything that he’s gotten back.

 

Peter now looks forward to spending the night at Ned’s on Friday, he can’t wait for May to get off work at eight and he counts down the hours to Saturday evenings with Tony.

 

They usually watch a movie together, and on different occasions Pepper or Rhodey or even some of the Avengers have joined them; there have also been a couple of times they worked in the lab til late, but this once it’s different.

 

Tony’s going through some work on his tablet, and Peter’s got his head resting on his lap, eyes closed but very far from falling asleep.

 

The atmosphere seems to be softer, more delicate than usual, and as Tony absentmindedly runs his fingers through Peter’s hair, the boy ponders.

 

He feels safe like this, despite everything, despite the fear and the nightmares, he knows he’s cared for, he knows he’s loved.

He doesn’t need anything else, not really, not when he’s so close to the man that risked everything for him, and gave him back everything he lost.

 

And that’s how it happens, that’s when it hits him.

He realizes for the first time that he loves Tony, and that he loves him beyond what words can explain. He loves him the same way he loves May, the same way he loves Ben: like a parent.

 

The epiphany hits him with enough force to make him miss a breath and send his heart racing.

He sits up, and  _ it all makes sense now. _

 

He knew he admired Tony, he knew he cared about him, he knew he was immensely grateful for his involvement in his life, but he never succeed to identify his feelings until now.

 

“Pete? You okay?” asks Tony, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his sudden movement.

 

“Yeah” he answers, then, just loud enough to be heard “I, uh. I love you”

 

He says it because it feels right, because it’s true, very much so and he thinks Tony deserves to know.

He says it and he doesn’t regret doing so, even if he finds himself holding his breath and he starts anxiously worrying on his lower lip as soon as he releases the words into the air.

 

Tony freezes, he stops dead in his tracks, shock overshadowing the lines on his face, lips slightly parted in surprise.

It takes what is a second but feels like an eternity for his expression to change completely.

It softens drastically, crumbling and giving way to a multitude of feelings that dance explicitly along Tony’s features, which is something he never allows to happen, but he doesn’t seem to mind right now.

 

Tony clears his throat, pretends his eyes aren’t slightly glassy, and he tells Peter, just as sincerely “I love you more”

 

He kisses the top of his head and strokes his cheek tenderly, he smiles at him and Peter has never seen him so vulnerable, so eager to show his more fragile, more human side.

 

Peter lays his head back down on Tony’s lap, he closes his eyes and he falls asleep feeling precious and full.

  
  
  
  
  


The thing about staying over at the Avengers Compound is that running into the Falcon at two in the morning while he’s getting himself a glass of water doesn’t happen to be unusual.

 

But Peter is still wearing his Star Wars pajamas, his hair is a mess and he’s so tired his bones ache, which makes the whole situation quite awkward, if not embarrassing.

 

He also doesn’t know Sam Wilson very well, they have exchanged a couple words on a couple different occasion, and well, they have fought against each other as well as side by side, but he has no idea how he should initiate a conversation with the older superhero.

 

For a second he considers standing very still and waiting for Sam to finish and leave the room, hopefully without even noticing his presence.

 

That plan flies out the window the moment Sam’s head snaps up, meeting Peter’s eyes right on “Oh, hi kid” 

 

“Uh, hi” he takes a hesitant step forward, until he’s fully inside the kitchen.

 

Sam studies his face for a second, then he fetches another glass from the cupboard and he pours water into it. He holds it out for Peter to take and he does, smiling up at the man shyly, but just as gratefully.

 

“Thank you” he goes to sit down at the table and Sam follows him, taking a seat right in front of him.

 

There’s a moment of utter silence in which Peter takes small sips from his glass and Sam looks at him, he’s not sure if curious or concerned.

 

“Are you okay, kid?” he asks, finally.

The question takes Peter a bit by surprise; he was expecting casual small talk, or even for the silence to drag on, but the question feels oddly straightforward coming from someone who’s just an acquaintance to him.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. How, how are you?”

 

Sam leans back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest “I couldn’t sleep. You know, sometimes, when it’s dark enough, quiet enough, I forget we’re not there anymore”

 

Peter shivers, despite himself. A couple of dark thoughts make their way to his mind, and he hastily pushes them away.

 

Sam notices, of course, and Peter never knew he was this observant.

 

“Are you having trouble falling asleep too, Peter?”

 

He thinks of all the times he jumps awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and with a scream caught in his throat; he thinks of the night light that he asked May about, the one that he hasn’t needed since he was six years old, the one that he can’t be without, now.

 

All of his panicked, messy thoughts, the tears, the way he forgets how to breathe every now and then; the weight of it all makes itself present and Peter can no longer ignore it, he can’t dismiss it.

 

So he nods, his eyes prickling, and he comes undone, right in front of the Falcon and a half empty, half full glass of water.

 

Sam doesn’t seem shocked by his reaction.

He offers him a kind smile “It’s okay, kid, we’re all struggling. And it’s going to be hard dealing with this, I know, I’m on your same boat, right? But the most important thing is finding the strength to go on. Do you know how we do that, Spidey?”

 

Peter shakes his head, hurriedly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

“We find people, make sure we’re not alone, that we remember we’re not the only ones that lived through it. It’s hard, but that’s really all it takes”

 

Peter lets the words echo in the air, and he decides he likes the way they sound.

 

He realizes just how much easier it gets when he’s with May, Tony, Ned or even Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. 

He remembers just how much more upset he was before stumbling upon Sam’s quiet company, his gentle eyes and carefully chosen words that sound awfully like the truth.

 

“I think you’re right”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass.

 

“That’s because I am, kid. Now, drink your water and then get to bed. It’s late” Sam gets up from the table, careful not his drag his chair, and he turns to make his way out of the room.

 

Before he can leave, Peter speaks up “Hey, Mister Wilson?”

 

Sam turns over his shoulder “Uh?”

 

“Thank you”

 

“You’re very welcome” 

 

Then Peter is left alone, but he doesn’t feel as lonely and scared as he did before, and between his fingers he can almost feel a sparkle of hope.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter can barely hold himself upright and he has just remembered how to breathe again, yet there he is, surrounded by madness.

 

The war rages all around him but he barely has any energy left in his body to fight.

He forces himself through the motions, but he feels dizzy and each one of his movements is too slow, his limbs too heavy and he still can’t tell if he truly is alive.

 

There are battle screams, screams of pain echoing from all parts of the field and the stench of blood and sweat intoxicates the air, yet Peter feels underwater, far away.

 

He’s not real.

 

He’s not real, until he is.

 

“ _ Kid!”  _ the voice is desperate, urgent, and close, definitely there.

But the only thing that comes to Peter’s mind is  _ Tony, that’s Tony’s voice. _

 

He turns uselessly, blindly searching for the source of the voice. He looks for Tony but he can’t find him, and his heart begins to beat faster and faster, more and more frantically.

“Mister Stark?!”

 

He feels small, and fragile, and he doesn’t want to be here. He wants Tony to find him, to make it okay because he’s never felt so helpless, so scared.

 

That’s when he feels two strong arms grabbing his shoulders from behind, turning him around in a fuss.

 

Suddenly, he’s being held oh so tightly against Tony’s chest, and he’s safe, he’s real. Tony is here.

 

He clings to his mentor just as fiercely, and he doesn’t speak, he listens to Tony’s heartbeat, his fastened breathing and his panicked words: all of the things that make him concrete.

 

“Peter, Peter I missed you so much”

 

Peter closes his eyes. He missed him too.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter’s favourite days are the ones May comes over at the Compound.

 

Not only because they get to spend the whole day together, even though that’s definitely the main reason, but also because May manages to socialize with every living soul, and that apparently includes every member of the team.

 

It’s a Sunday morning and they’re both on the couch, May is reading a book and she’s got her feet on Peter’s lap, who’s painting the nails of her toes.

 

The sun outside the window shines brightly enough that Peter feels warm and the way May hums softly under her breath is enough to make him feel safe.

 

That’s when Carol Danvers herself walks into the room.

 

She stops in her tracks as soon as she spots them, but she recovers quickly, giving them a bright smile.

 

“Hey there, Peter Parker”

 

Peter turns completely red at her greeting, groaning internally at the memory of their first introduction.

 

_ (“I’m Peter Parker” “Kid, you have a secret identity” “Oh, that’s right. I’m Peter Parker”) _

 

“Good morning Miss Captain. I mean, Miss Danvers, good morning”

 

May sends an amused glance his way to match Carol’s own, and Peter would very much prefer for the ground underneath his feet to swallow him.

 

Thankfully, May decides to put his suffering on pause by introducing herself.

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Peter’s aunt, May”

 

Carol walks over to the couch to offer her hand to shake, which May takes gladly and energetically.

 

“I’m Carol”

 

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for helping getting my boy back”

 

Peter groans loudly this time, but his chest swells with love.

 

“It was a pleasure” she says as she sits down next to Peter, peering over his shoulder to inspect the work he’s doing on May’s nails.

“You’re good” she comments.

 

Peter shrugs “I like doing it, it helps me relax” and it gives him something else to focus on other than the loud clutter of his thoughts.

 

“Could you do my hands?” she asks, quite unexpectedly.

 

Peter’s mouth hangs open for a second “Sure. Yeah, ok”

 

“Nice” she squeezes his shoulder and then turns her attention to May “So, what was Peter Parker like as a little kid?”

 

Peter throws back his head in desperation “Oh God save me”

 

May’s eyes shine, as if she had been waiting for someone to ask her that one question for centuries, as if she hadn’t already told Tony about pretty much every stunt ever pulled in his whole life.

 

“He was the weirdest kid, you would not believe the things he would say”

  
  
  
  
  


They’re in his room, and the boxes are still closed, there are no posters on the walls.

 

Peter is laying stomach down on the floor, reading the descriptions for a game of crosswords aloud.

 

Tony sits on his bed, contributing to the game every once in a while, but otherwise keeping quiet.

 

“Area sized by dictator with force? It’s five letters”

 

“Mhm, amain”

 

Peter hums and writes down the word, smiling slightly when he notices he’s almost finished.

 

“Hey Pete”

 

“What’s up?” he pulls himself up by his arms, sitting up with his legs intercrossed.

 

“Why didn’t you do anything with your room?”

 

Peter hesitates “I just never seem to find the time to, you know?”

 

Tony looks at him, and he knows, he sees it, the way Peter’s hiding. He always does.

 

“I could help you out, if you want”

Peter laughs, though he’s not quite sure why, and he nods “Sure, I’d like that” then he feels like crying and he’s so deeply touched because this room is now a metaphor for what home would feel like for Peter, and Tony knows this.

 

This room could be what Peter sometimes forgets he used to have before the war, but most of the times he’s just lost and hollow, and he leaves it as it is.

But now Tony offers him to build it together, home, hope, peace and whatever deeper meaning Peter likes to attribute to the room.

 

He wants to tell him just how much he appreciates that simple offer, how much it means to him.

What he says, instead, is “Join up to, four letters”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, hope you liked this! If you did, please please let me know why and if you didn’t, let me know why as well. Comments are the best and they would make so so happy.  
> (But please don’t comment spoilers because there’s a lot of people who haven’t seen the movie and I wouldn’t want for it to be ruined for them)  
> Also, if you’re wondering why on Earth are Carol and Sam in this, it’s because they’re two of my favourite babies so I had to write them.
> 
> Now, for the people who read my other stuff, I have NOT abandoned as long as you still have a heart and I will hopefully post the last part soon. I know it has been a looong wait but I hope some of you still want to know how it ends.


End file.
